Houston, we have brain death. Repeat, Houston, we have brain death.

So, there (well, here) I am at work. At Kinko's. Wearing the blue Kinko's shirt. Wearing the dark blue Kinko's apron. Behind the counter at Kinko's. Working on swapping out the 40 pound roll of lamination on the machine we don't let customers touch if we can help it.

And what does a customer ask me?
(No, it's not "are you busy?" That's too easy.)

"Do you work here?"

What the fuck? I mean, what the fucking fuck? Does this customer think that random people just come in here, put on a Kinko's apron, and start playing with things in the store and not work here?

To further compound the stupidity, at this point, the only people in the store besides me and this customer are the customer's family.

What should I have said? (besides "Yes, ma'am."?)

"Nope."
"No, I work at the Wendy's next door. Go over there and you'll find some Kinko's employees."
"What gave it away? The apron?"
"Duh!"

I had, prior to tonight, thought I had already heard the stupidest question that could possibly be asked, but that one takes the cake.